


Like A Leaf

by GlowingMechanicalHeart



Series: Flash Fiction Friday [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Memories, POV Maglor, Reunions, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowingMechanicalHeart/pseuds/GlowingMechanicalHeart
Summary: Maglor is a haunted elf.He prefers his solitude, even if the memories are harder to ignore then.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maglor | Makalaurë, Maglor | Makalaurë & Sons of Fëanor
Series: Flash Fiction Friday [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003569
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Like A Leaf

**Author's Note:**

> For @flashfictionfridayofficial: Prompt 'Drifting in the wind' 
> 
> **There's a line with suicide ideation.** It is a brief line, but I wanted to note it and make sure people be safe. It's near the end. I bolded the start and end of the line for safety.

Maglor is a haunted elf.

Too many memories, too much grief and longing. He’s an artist, he feels much deeply. His memories are vivid, in color and in great detail. The pain is a constant companion that never truly leaves, it dulls, but never goes away.

He wonders, all over Endor ë . Alone with no one to share his pain, he stays away as much as possible. He would not subject anyone to his presence, even if he craves company. He feels like a fallen leaf, drifting in the wind, with no place to land.

When he is unable to get his own food, he comes near settlements, he sings for his supper and some coins, his voice has not lost its luster, even if sometimes he wishes it did. Once he has gotten the basics, he leaves one more and keeps moving, never returning unless he is in need. He does so in every place he goes.

He prefers his solitude, even if the memories are harder to ignore then.

Sometimes he swears, he can hear his brothers, father and mother in the wind. He can still hear Nelyo’s steady rhythm of voice, Tyelko’s own firm tone calling for Huan, Moryo’s angry rants, Curvo’s excited tone as he speaks of another creation, the Ambarussa’s light tone, ever full of mischief. Atar’s own firm tone, amil’s gentle one. Those days he sings, louder than he ought, trying in vain to silence the voices that are drifting in the wind.

Because some days he hears others, those who have fallen at his blade, those who have gone to Námo’s Halls cursing his very existence. The more painful ones, are always Elrond and Elros. He hears them, calling him, beckoning home.

But he lost his home a long time ago. He has no right to impose on Elrond. Elros and his people are gone, same as Númenor. Another memory that haunts him, the loss of Elros, even if that one is not by his hand, he still mourns for the boy he knew, for the King he was and for the loss of everything Elros helped create.

Elrond… he could go to his valley. He could see his son – because those boys would always be his sons, embrace him and beg for forgiveness. His throat dries at the thought, his heart and soul long for some rest. Elrond could open his home to him, he had told him so, many years ago when they saw each other last, but, he couldn’t.

And so, he wonders.

Always alone save his memories for company. Always the voices calling him home. He’s not sure where home is for him now. So he sings, his laments, his regrets, his pain and his loneliness mingling in his melody. And he keeps wondering, like a leaf in the wind, unknown of where he will end up. Moving constantly, he remembers everything and puts it in songs.

**There are days where his mind is dark, where he stares at the sea and considers jumping. Of finally ending it all and face whatever doom is there for him to face.** But, always, in the last moment, Elrond’s voice comes. Strong and vibrant, with a power he knows not and calls him, ‘Adar’. And he stops, falls to his knees and weeps.

Weeps for all that is gone, for those who have long left him, for those who he had a hand in ending and for all those things his oath destroyed.

It is after one of those episodes, that he wonders without much thought, and he finds himself in Elrond’s valley. He walks in, just a stranger seeking the refuge Imladris offers to any and all. He’s just a wondering soul. His heart beats loudly in his chest as he walks, marvels at the beauty his son has made. He hears the laughter in the wind, the joy and feels the security that the valley offers.

It feels oddly like home.

And he finds his son without looking, for Elrond is overseeing something near the entrance of his home. He stops and waits, then Elrond turns and spots him, freezes immediately. He fights the urge to flee, but Elrond doesn’t give him the chance, instead, waves at the elves around him and rushes to him.

He barely has the time to open his arms. Elrond’s firm form crashes against him, and tears blur his vision. “Mae govannen, child.” His voice is raspy.

Elrond tightens his hold on him, and whispers in turn, “Welcome home, Adar.”

He is much like a leaf, drifting slowly in the wind, but perhaps, he has found a safe place to land.


End file.
